


Poker Night

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, NSFW, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 12:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13146747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: Prompt: Negan and his men gamble on different items while they play cards but on one occasion one of his many wives, begging for trouble, decides to tell the boys that she’s the prize for the next game. Of course, when Negan wins (because let’s face it, no one is going to argue when Negan says he wins) he makes sure to claim his prize and let her know that he doesn’t appreciate her offering herself to his men.





	Poker Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a prompt from @neganprompts on Tumblr

Warnings: Language, smut, daddy!kink, possessive!Negan, spanking

Fic:

“Sorry boys, looks like I win again,” Negan says with a grin as he tosses his hand onto the table. Reaching forward, he wraps his arms around his winnings and pulls them to him before straightening out the pile of cigarettes and junk food. Sitting on the arm of Negan’s chair, you sigh. These poker games could go on forever and it was rare for anyone other than Negan to win, so you found them rather boring. You loved spending time with your husband; you just wished things were a little more exciting. Smirking to yourself, you think of a way to liven things up.

Resting your arm on your husband’s shoulder, you decide to make a proposal. “What do you say we make this game a little more interesting?” you question casually.

“And how might we do that, Sweetheart?” Negan asks you. He looks up at you with pure curiosity, waiting for your answer.

“Well, you guys like to bet with silly trinkets and ammunition,” you begin, “What if you played for a prize worth winning?”

“What are you suggesting?” Simon questions, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table in interest.

“Do tell, Baby Doll, what is a prize worth winning?” Negan presses you. You smile sweetly at your husband, trailing your fingers along his cheek.

“Me of course,” you answer. Negan’s cocky smile instantly turns into a frown.

“Come again?” he questions. You stand from the arm of Negan’s chair and begin circling the table, letting your hand trail along the shoulders of the men sitting there. Negan stares daggers at you as you walk.

“I said, for the next hand, you’ll all be playing to win me,” you answer, “Just for one night of course. I couldn’t be away from my husband for too long; I don’t think he’d appreciate that.”

“Your husband doesn’t appreciate his wife offering herself to other men in the first place,” Negan growls, hands fisting on the table.

“I’m not offering myself to other men,” you protest, “I’m offering myself to one man, particularly the winner of the next hand, which very well could be you. You’re not calling yourself a loser, are you?”

“You really know how to push all the wrong buttons, don’t you?” Negan asks, a tone of warning in his voice. You probably should’ve backed down, called the whole thing a joke, but now you wanted to see how things played out, how far you could push this.

“I do believe I’m a prize worth winning,” you comment, “But if my husband is that afraid of losing, I’ll withdraw the offer.” Negan watches you carefully, eyes narrowed. You could tell you’d wounded his pride. Some of the men around the table seem uncomfortable, others eager. The tension in the room is thick; the silence is suffocating until Negan finally breaks it.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Negan warns.

“Oh, I hope so,” you answer, smiling sweetly in return.

“Well, go on, deal the cards,” Negan shouts at Dwight as he brings his fist down on the table. Dwight nods, dealing the cards with shaky hands. You circle the table again, examining the hands each of the men has in order to see who you might spend the night with if your husband were in fact to lose, not that he would ever let that happen.

Dwight folds instantly, not wanting to get on Negan’s bad side once again. Simon bets modestly. He knew he wouldn’t win, but he didn’t want to piss off Negan by just throwing the game. Some of the other men, the dumber ones perhaps, bet as if they thought they could actually win. The thought makes you laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Negan asks through gritted teeth as he tosses his bet into the middle of the table.

“Oh, nothing,” you answer as you continue to circle the table. You give each of the men an inviting look, encouraging them to try to win the night with you.

Simon knew better. Even though he had the winning hand, he folds, graciously and wisely bowing out. Another three men fold as well. Now only Negan and two other men are still in play, the doctor and a younger recruit. If either of them actually thought they could have you, they were bound to get their heads caved in.

When you get back to Negan, you sit on the arm of his chair, resting your arm on his shoulder. You run your other hand through his hair lazily. Looking down at his cards, you inhale sharply. Negan had the worst hand he’d had all night; shit. If the other two didn’t bow out, you’d wind up being the cause of one of their deaths.

You watch Negan’s expression grow cold as the other two men lay down their cards. “So, do I get to collect my prize now?” the young man asks cockily.

Negan slams his hand down on the table, cards face down beneath his palm. “I win,” he says, making the young man’s smile turn into a frown.

“Then show your cards,” he dares to demand.

“I said, I win,” Negan growls.

“But -” the man begins to protest.

“If Negan says he wins, he wins,” Simon steps in, warning the young man, “And you’d do best to keep your mouth shut.”

“Everybody out,” Negan demands. While the other men quickly follow instructions, scrambling to collect their winnings before leaving, the young man grumbles about having been cheated out of his win. You were sure you weren’t included in Negan’s demand, but you slip from the arm of his chair anyway. “Not you,” Negan growls, grabbing you by the wrist. He waits for the door to shut before continuing. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Negan asks you. He pulls on your wrist just hard enough to make you face him.

“Like I said, I was just trying to make things interesting,” you answer innocently.

“Offering yourself to other men isn’t ‘making things interesting,’” Negan corrects you, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to piss me off.”

“Of course not,” you answer, “Maybe annoy you a little, but I was never offering myself to anyone but you.” You move to sit in his lap, hand caressing his cheek. Negan raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to explain. “Like I said, I was only offering myself to the winner,” you continue, “Which I knew would be you.”

“Yeah?” he questions, “Did you see my fucking cards? That asshole beat me.” Despite being angry at you, Negan wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight.

“But you didn’t lose, did you?” you press, placing light kisses across his face, “I knew you wouldn’t let any of them have me. I wouldn’t have made myself the prize otherwise.”

“You realize you’re going to have to pay for what you did tonight, right?” Negan asks you, “I can’t have my wives thinking it’s okay to offer themselves to other people all willy nilly like that.” You chuckle as you let your hand trail across his chest until you find the zipper of his leather jacket and pull it down. “This isn’t funny,” he says, “I married you for a reason and it wasn’t so I could pimp you out to my men on poker night.”

“You’re right,” you concede, “I’m sorry I put you in that position. I deserve to be punished.” Shifting, you lift the hem of your dress and move to straddle his lap. You press your lips to his as you rock yourself against him. His breathing becomes heavy as the kiss intensifies.

Negan’s grip on your dress tightens and you can feel his cock stiffening beneath you. He groans as his hips rock up toward you and you swallow the sound hungrily. Suddenly, Negan lifts you from the chair, standing to place you on the table. Poker chips rattle as he places you down.

“That’s better,” Negan comments as he settles between your legs, “Are you going to be a good little girl now?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you purr as you press your hands up beneath his white t-shirt. Negan licks his lips before pressing a hand to your chest and pushing you back against the table.

He squeezes your breast through the black material of your dress, your back arching. His other hand raises the hem of your dress, gloved fingertips lightly trailing up your thigh. You shudder as he runs his fingers along your cloth covered slit, your panties becoming wetter by the second.

“Daddy, please,” you beg as you squirm beneath his touch. He was riling you up, teasing you toward the release you needed, but being very slow about getting you there.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Baby Girl,” Negan tells you.

“Daddy, I need you,” you add, bucking your hips toward his hand. Negan only laughs and continues to tease you.

“Still not what I’m looking for, Baby Doll,” Negan teases you, “Are you sorry for what you did tonight?”

“Not at the moment,” you admit, writhing against the table. Negan’s cocky smirk turns into a frown. He pulls his hand away from you and brings it down hard against your thigh. You gasp at the sting.

“Maybe you need a different kind of punishment,” Negan says. He takes a step back from you and shrugs his jacket from his shoulders, dropping it to the chair behind him. His t-shirt follows quickly after.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him undress. His hands reach down for the buckle of his belt, undoing it before opening the front of his pants. You groan as Negan pushes down his pants and boxers, his hard cock springing free.

Negan wraps his hand around his thick cock, stroking himself slowly. His free hand reaches up, grabbing the top of your dress and pulling it down far enough for your breasts to fall free. He takes one of your breasts in his hand, squeezing the flesh and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Negan, please,” you whimper, needing to feel him inside you.

“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet,” Negan denies you, “I want you to slip two of those pretty little fingers inside that tight, wet pussy, but don’t you dare make yourself cum. Do you understand me, Sweetheart?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you answer. You let one of your hands trail down your body and slip beneath the lace of your panties. Avoiding your clit, you run two fingers through your dripping folds, slicking them up before pushing them inside yourself.

“Good girl,” Negan praises. His rhythm quickens, stroking himself faster as he watches you touching yourself. Relaxing back against the table, you try not to work yourself up too quickly. You knew you were already in trouble and you didn’t want to upset Negan any further. Negan’s hand squeezes your breast tighter, threatening to leave bruises on your skin.

You work yourself right to the edge of orgasm, but instead of giving yourself the release you crave, you pull your fingers from yourself. Normally Negan would praise you for following his orders, but this time he only tells you to edge yourself again. You work yourself to the edge of orgasm again and again, following Negan’s orders flawlessly.

Just watching you is enough to bring Negan to his end. “Fuck, Baby Girl,” Negan grunts as he spills himself across your body, his cum ruining your black dress. His cock pulses in his hand as he strokes himself through his high. “That’s enough of that,” Negan says, grasping your wrist and pulling your hand away from you, “Come here.”

Grasping your hips, Negan pulls you right to the edge of the table. Hooking his foot around the leg of his chair, he pulls it closer and takes a seat. Negan growls, his eyes nearly black as he watches you collect some of his cum with two of your fingers and suck them clean. You hum at the taste of him, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Damn, Doll,” Negan groans. He nips at your thigh, making your eyes flick open. “Sexy as fuck,” he mutters against your skin as he places rough kisses up your thigh. His hands slide along your skin as he pushes your stained dress higher. When his lips reach the hem of your panties, he drags his teeth along your skin, catching the lace between his teeth and tugging the material down. You lift your hips in order to help him.

“Please,” you whisper, reaching down to thread your hands through his hair. Negan simply grins that cocky grin of his before burying his face between your legs. You sigh as his tongue works wonders, teasing your lips apart before easing his tongue inside you. Your hands fist into his hair, tugging as he eats you out, his beard scratching at your delicate skin. Negan hums against you as he tastes you, the sensation going straight to your core. His name falls from your lips like a prayer as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking hard. “Negan, please,” you pant, your chest heaving.

You needed release, you were desperate for it, and just when you thought Negan was going to cave in and give you what you needed he pulls away. “You didn’t think I was going to make it that easy did you?” Negan laughs, “You said it yourself, you need to be punished. I’m not going to let you cum until I know you’re sorry for what you did tonight.”

“Negan, I need you,” you beg, “I was never offering myself to anyone but you. Please, Daddy, I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Negan questions as he stands, “Because something tells me you’re enjoying this. You offered yourself as a prize just to get a rise outta me, didn’t you?” You bite down on your bottom lip as your eyes flick down. He was already hard again and you needed to feel him inside you.

“Yes,” you answer, “I knew what offering myself like that would do to you and what it would make you want to do to me. Negan, I’m sorry. I belong to you and only you, I know that. I know that what I did upset you and I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

“You mean that, Baby Girl?” Negan questions.

“Yes, Daddy, I swear,” you reply, “I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

“Come here,” Negan instructs, helping you to sit up on the table, “I forgive you, Sweetheart; and I don’t mind hearing you say you belong to me either.”

You run your hands up his abdomen and chest as Negan leans in to press kisses against your skin. “I’m yours,” you promise him, “All yours.” His kisses are much gentler than they were before, his hands caressing your skin. Reaching behind you, he unzips your dress and pulls the material up over your head. When the ruined material is discarded, he unhooks your bra and tosses it to the floor.

“Mine,” Negan repeats, hands exploring your naked body. Finally, his lips capture yours and he kisses you deeply as he lines himself up with your entrance. “All mine,” he adds in a groan as he sinks into you, filling you to the hilt.

“Yours,” you moan in agreement as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. Wrapping your leg around his waist, you hold him close. One of his hands grasps your thigh, the other splaying across the small of your back.

“So fucking wet for me,” he groans as he rolls his hips, easily sliding in and out of you. His pace starts slow, easing you toward the precipice yet again. Your nails dig into the skin of his back as he winds you up, your stomach knotting. “Fuck, such a good girl,” Negan grunts.

Placing his hand to your chest, Negan pushes you back against the table. You lay out across it, arms above your head. Negan grip tightens on your thigh, his other hand pressing against your abdomen and holding you firmly against the table. Negan’s thrusts begin to pick up speed. He pounds into you, each stroke becoming rougher; your breasts bouncing with each hard thrust. You cry out as he hits spots deep inside you, your walls tightening around his throbbing cock.

“That’s it,” Negan praises, “You take my cock so fucking well.” His fingers dig into your skin as he nears his second high.

You try to find something to hold onto, but the edge of the table is out of reach. Instead, you reach down with one hand and grasp Negan’s wrist, holding on tight. You fist your other hand into your hair, fisting it tightly as you writhe against the table. “Please,” you whimper, “Daddy, please.”

“Fuck,” Negan grunts, “Go on, Baby Doll, cum around my cock.” With his permission, you finally reach your high.

“Negan,” you scream, your orgasm hitting you hard. The pleasure washing over you is made all the better by the wait you’d been forced to endure. Your walls clamp down around his throbbing cock, sparking his own orgasm.

“Fucking fuck,” Negan grunts, his erratic thrusts coming to an end. Burying himself inside you with one rough motion, his cock pulses. You moan as he spills himself inside you, his warm cum filling you. Negan praises you as he begins thrusting slowly, working you both through your highs. “That’s my girl,” Negan whispers, making you smile.

Slowly Negan pulls himself from you, his cum dripping down your thigh. He helps you to sit back up before wrapping his arms around you. “Sorry I ruined poker night,” you tell him, running your fingers absentmindedly over his body.

“You know, if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask,” Negan teases, smirking, “You know you’re more important than some stupid poker game.”

“I have to say though, it was pretty fun having a room full of guys trying to win me for the night,” you tease back, wiping the smirk right off his face.

“I thought you said you were sorry,” Negan says, “You don’t sound very sorry to me.” You shrug, making Negan growl. “Now you’re just asking for it,” Negan warns, “I’m going to have to find another way to punish you, aren’t I?”


End file.
